


The Catch Up Sessions

by verybadhedgehog



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bickering, Crushes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Grinding, Learning French, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Philosophy, Psychology, Tutoring, emotional dumbass Armitage Hux, emotional dumbass kylo ren, professor rae sloane, wiktionary saves the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verybadhedgehog/pseuds/verybadhedgehog
Summary: Professor Sloane asks Armitage Hux to help out another student who has fallen behind in class. He takes the task very seriously and will not rest until Kylo Ren has passed the catch-up exam. Kylo is not keen about having Hux all up in his business. Notinitially, at least…





	The Catch Up Sessions

The Tuesday morning lecture on Perception was over.Students closed their laptops and their notebooks and started shuffling out of their seats.

“Armitage?” called Professor Sloane. “Could I keep you for just a moment?”

“Of course.”

Armitage Hux made his way to the front of the lecture room. He was surprised to be called back: he knew everything was in order with his assignments.

“Thank you, Armitage. I want to ask you a small favour. Seeing as you’re usually so reliable.”

“I try to be,” Hux said. “What is it?”

“Do you know Ben Solo at all?”

“Uh, only vaguely.”

“Right,” said Professor Sloane. She tucked a couple of coils of her hair back behind her ear. “He hasn’t been in class for the last few sessions.”

“Hmm. I suppose I haven’t seen him in class recently.”

“Could you speak to him, and tell him to get his butt to class?”

“Er, yes. But like I say, I don’t really know him well.”

“Listen,” Sloane said. “I don’t _want_ to fail a student. I really don’t.” She shook her head, and made a little shrug. “But if a student doesn’t show up, that student makes life rather difficult for me. Ben’s got the making of a good student. But I think he needs a nudge.”

“Okay.”

“I have better things to do than run around after wayward students,” she said. “But if my students _happen_ to study together and help each other out, and if the stragglers _choose_ to make an effort and catch up, then I don’t have to give anyone a zero. And everyone’s happy, right?”

Hux knew that Professor Sloane was suggesting that he didn’t have anything better to do than run around after slackers. And the awful thing was that she might be right.

“I can certainly offer, I dunno, if he wants to study with me?”

Professor Sloane smiled. “The catch-up test for slackers, stragglers and assorted no-good-niks is in two weeks’ time. After that, no more second chances.”

Hux nodded. It would be a challenge, and he liked a challenge.

“Alright. I’ll tell him. And I’ll offer my assistance.”

“Thank you very much, Armitage. Knew you were the right one to ask. Thought of asking young Dopheld Mitaka, but… nah.”

Dopheld Mitaka was a diligent student as well as being one of Hux’s few friends, and he also got top grades. But he was a quiet kind of guy, and definitely not the person to send chasing after Ben Solo.

”I’ll let Ben know what the situation is,” Sloane said.

* * *

Armitage sat in the Psychology department library and tidied up his notes from Sloane’s class before his next lecture.

He gave some thought to the assignment Sloane had given him. He wondered why she had picked him. He could see why she hadn’t chosen Dopheld. But why him? Perhaps she thought he had the makings of a good tutor. It was great that she trusted him, of course, but it wasn’t as though he knew Ben well or particularly got on with him.

Ben was a big sulky horse of a guy, who tended to keep himself to himself. He was actually a Philosophy student, and he was taking this one particular Psychology class, as some of the Philosophy students sometimes did. He’d been at a party that Armitage’s friend Jason had organised, and he recalled him being slightly antisocial — mainly sullen and then suddenly outspoken, making all sorts of sweeping dismissive comments that tended to pull the rug out from under the conversation. Some of the people at the party _had_ deserved it, but, still.

He was pretty sure that Jason knew Ben from the university fencing team, and he was also sure that Ben actually lived a couple of floors up from Jason in the same building.It wasn’t far, less than a mile away. He’d walk there after his Statistics class.

* * *

Hux bought a sandwich from the snack bar, and ate it on the way.

The building where Jason and Ben lived was a 1970s brick-built lump, near the university football pitches and the Lidl.

He swiped his university smart card, and the door opened for him. The building was arranged by lettered staircase, with two landings coming off each staircase. Jason lived on C staircase, and Hux was fairly certain that Ben lived on the second or third floor.

At the bottom of the staircase, behind another security door, was the in/out board, a feature of some of the older halls of residence. Next to each resident’s name was a metal slider, which could be moved to either obscure IN or OUT.

None of the names on the board were B Solo.

Hux walked up to the second floor anyway.

Each room had its occupant’s name above the door. There was no Solo. Third floor. Most doors closed, loud music coming from one of them. Same thing. No Solo.

He was about to give up, and was on his way down the stairs when he saw someone he knew, at least well enough to say hello to, coming out onto the second floor landing.

“Oh, hey. Armitage.”

“Oh. Vanessa. Hi.”

“What brings you here? Looking for someone?”

“Yes, actually. I’m looking for Ben Solo. I was sure he lived here.”

“Yeah, he does! Room C304. But he’s changing his name, did you not know?”

“No. Apparently not.”

“It’s ‘Kylo Ren’ now.”

He must have made a face, because Vanessa laughed.

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “Anyway, they’ve just changed it on the door this week, so, yeah, if you were looking for Solo,” and she pointed up the stairs.

“Okay. Thanks.”

Armitage went back up to the third floor. Room C304. K Ren. The room where the loud music was coming from. He knocked. He knocked again, louder.

“Okay,” came a voice from behind the door, and the music turned down a little.

The door opened and it was definitely Ben Solo. Or Kylo Ren, he supposed. He was as Armitage remembered him, in his customary black jeans and hoodie, his hair hanging around his face.

“What is it,” he asked, sullenly.

“Can I come in? We had Perception this morning. Professor Sloane asked me to give you a message.”

“Ah, fuck. Yeah, come in.”

“So I guess you know what this is about?”

“Not really,” said Ben, or Kylo, as Hux was telling himself he’d have to call him.

“Don’t you check your emails? You have to start showing up for class. Or she’s going to fail you. And the make up test is in two weeks.”

“So?”

“What do you mean ‘so’? I said what I said.”

“What’s it got to do with you?”

“She asked me to tell you.”

“So you’ve told me. Thanks.”

Kylo put his hands in his pockets and stared sullenly at Hux.

“Apparently,” Hux said, “you need to study for this test.” He sighed, tetchily. “Can you turn this bloody music off?”

Kylo did.

Armitage took a quick glance around the room. It was a lot neater than he had imagined. The bed was made, with black duvet cover and pillow cases. The wall was decorated with two quite striking black and white photographs of brutalist architecture.

“I _said_, apparently you need to study for this test.”

“I heard you,” Kylo said. “I’ll study for it. Thanks. Bye. You can go.”

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.”

“I don’t think I need your help.”

Hux stared back at Kylo.

“I’ve got everything under control,” Kylo said. “I know what I have to do.”

“Do you, though? You weren’t at class this morning.”

“Okay! So I missed a class.”

“You’ve been missing a lot and you have to start turning up. Or you’ll get a zero.”

“Okay, so I’ll go to class. You’ve said your piece.”

“You don’t sound like you care,” Hux said.

“What the fuck is it your business?”

“Because Professor Sloane asked me to talk to you, and I actually respect her enough to do her a favour. Unlike you, who can’t even show the basic respect of getting out of bed for a 9 am. She’s offering you a chance here.”

“Respect? What the fuck are you talking about? What is this, condescending little shit day? You just gonna randomly walk into my room to talk shit to me?”

“Randomly?” Hux said, annoyed rather than intimidated. “Uh, no. You should have been expecting me. _Check your email!_”

Kylo sat at his computer and opened his email.

“Oh. Right.”

He read the email from Professor Sloane.

“What does it say?” Hux asked.

Kylo sighed. “She says you’re my minder now. And I’m on my last chance. Shit.”

“Yes. That’s what I’ve been telling you.”

“You don’t have to be so fucking smug about it,” Kylo said. He re-read the email a couple of times, and then he balled up his fist and punched himself in the right thigh. “Fuck! _Fuck_!”

Hux watched him with mild concern as he punched his thigh another two times, then clenched his fist tight and gritted his teeth. He seemed to be regaining control of himself.

“How far are you behind?” Hux asked.

Kylo closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying once again to get his composure back. “A bit,” he sighed.

“Right. So you need to catch up.”

“That’s what it says here.”

“Professor Sloane kind of suggested that we could study together.”

“What the fuck do you mean _together_?”

“What do _you_ mean? _Study together_! Like, we both study! And I can test you on what you’re supposed to be learning and you can test me! Study together! This should not be an alien concept!”

“Ugh,” Kylo said, his rage now deflated into a sullen broodiness.

“The test’s in two weeks. It’s only two weeks.”

Kylo sighed and stared off into space. “Two weeks,” he repeated.

“Well,” Hux said, with acidic brightness, “we can start tomorrow. We have Perception again at 9, in case you’d forgotten. I’ll come by and make sure you’re up and ready.”

“You _will_ _not_.”

“So you want to fail?”

“Fuck off! I don’t need to be fucking nannied. I’ll be in class.”

“I’ll be here at eight thirty.”

“You don’t listen, do you. Your help isn’t needed. I’ll _be in class_.”

“And we’ll sort out some study sessions.”

Kylo gritted his teeth and growled.

“I’m your minder for the next two weeks,” Hux said. “Like it or not ,you’re not going to change it. So might as well get on with it.” He grinned smugly at Kylo. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and left.

* * *

On Wednesday morning, Hux was up a little earlier than usual, to give himself time to get to Kylo’s dorm. He trotted up the stairs to the third floor, making way for the students who were on their way down.

When he knocked on the door, there was no answer. There was no music playing this time, so there was no reason for Kylo not to hear him. Unless he was a deep sleeper.

He knocked again. Still no answer.

He cleared his throat and called Kylo’s name, and knocked harder.

“Get up!You’ve got class!”

No answer. Hux was beginning to get a little pissed off.

“Kylo! Get up and answer the door! You’re going to fail and you’re going to make me late! Kylo!”

He rattled the door.

Another door further down the landing opened, and a tired looking guy stuck his head out.

“Uh, I think he’s already gone, so, uh…”

“Already gone?”

“Yeah. So, uh, you can like, stop with the noise.”

“Sorry,” Hux said. “Shit,” he added, under his breath. He pursed his lips and gave Kylo’s door a parting glare, before heading for the stairs.

Bloody Kylo, making a fool of him like that.

He still got to the Psychology department on time.

He took his usual place, three rows back from the front, near the middle, and got his laptop out. Then he noticed. Two rows in front of him, over to the left, was a familiar mop of dark hair. Nobody else in this class had their hair like that. Yeah, it was definitely him.

The _asshole_.

Hux was impressed that Kylo had turned up to class, but was personally offended that Kylo had broken an appointment and made a bloody fool out of him. On purpose. It was obviously on purpose.

He glared at the back of Kylo’s head.

Kylo turned round and gave him a very sarcastic smile, putting it beyond doubt that he’d set Armitage up as the fool on purpose.

It was now a minute before nine. The lecture room was as full as it was going to get. Professor Sloane made her entrance from a side door, coffee mug in one hand, slide clicker in another.

Her navy dress pants and magenta cardigan contrasted with the scruffy clothes of most of the students. Armitage was one of the few exceptions to this, a fact of which he was always proud.

Sloane gave the class a quick once-over, and obviously clocked Kylo in the second row. Hux felt rather proud of that already, and failed to remind himself that in fact Kylo had in fact got to class under his own steam.

“Good morning everybody!” Sloane called. “Eyes to the front, we’re going to begin. Can everyone hear me okay?”

The class nodded and mumbled affirmatives.

* * *

After the class finished, Hux intercepted Kylo on his way out of the lecture room.

“So you’re here,” he said. “Um, well done.”

“Yes, I’m here. You saw me. Told you I didn’t need your help.”

“I was in your dorm knocking on your door at half past eight!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t need to,” Kylo said, as they moved to one side of the wide corridor leading from the lecture rooms to the main atrium.

“Now your neighbours think I’m a maniac,” Hux said, with a little bitterness.

“Yeah, they probably do. It’d be fitting.”

“No need to be like that,” Hux said. “Look. We need to arrange a time.”

Kylo looked blankly at him. “Whatever. If you say so.”

“How about this afternoon? I’m free from 3pm onwards. You?”

Kylo folded his arms across his chest and sighed. “Yeah. I’m free then. What do you actually want to do?”

“As I said yesterday, we can study for short periods and then test each other.”

“Test each other? You were serious about that.”

“Yes! It’s the only way to be certain we’ve learned what we’re studying.”

“That approach isn’t going to work for me.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

Kylo looked sullenly at the floor in lieu of an answer.

“You have to know for sure that you’re going to remember stuff for the test,” Hux explained.

“I’ll remember it. Are you going to let me copy your notes, at least?”

“You can use my notes, yes. I’ll go over them with you.”

“I don’t see why you’re making things so complicated, but, anyway.”

“You shouldn’t be complaining, really. The test’s in two weeks whether you like it or not.”

“Yes,” Kylo said through gritted teeth. “I know.”

Hux got his folder out of his bag. “So, how much of the module have you missed?”

Kylo didn’t answer.

“Have you got notes for this?” Hux asked, pointing to a section heading.

“Yes.”

“This?”

“Yes.”

“This?”

“A bit.”

“This?”

“Wasn’t here for that.”

“Wow. Okay. That’s a lot to catch up on.”

“Yeah. But I can do it.”

“_If_ you let me help you.”

“I’m not saying no. I’d be walking away if I was saying no. Wouldn’t have showed up today. I’m just not over the moon about it, is all.”

“Fine. Let’s meet up at three, then. And we’ll go through the first bit of the visual perception that you missed.”

“Fine,” Kylo repeated.

“Your place or mine?”

“What?”

“What I said. Your place or mine? Do you have notes to bring with you? I have a copy of the reading material from week six that I can lend you.”

“Notes are in my bag,” Kylo said. “So I suppose your place.”

“Excellent.”

“Where is it?”

“Sutton House.”

“Oh, yeah, should have guessed you’d be in the fancypants private halls.”

“So? I’m actually surprised you wouldn’t be.”

“Don’t know what the fuck you think you mean by that, but, anyway.”

“Sutton House, room 21,” Hux said, unmoved. “If your smart card doesn’t get you in, buzz me. Text me when you’re on your way.”

* * *

Hux sat at his desk with his notes spread out in front of him, wondering whether Kylo was actually going to show up. It would be just like him to not bother.

His room had a spare desk chair, so at least they wouldn't have to try to work on the sofa. And the desk was very large, which was another benefit of the superior grade rooms in privately owned Sutton House. He tried to recall how much working space Kylo’s room had. The desk situation was alright, he thought; it was the rest of the room that was relatively cramped.

His phone chimed with a message alert. Kylo was on his way after all.

Hux buzzed him in, and put the kettle on.

“Ah, you actually came,” Hux said as he opened the door.

“Yeah. I’m not going to forget,” Kylo said, moving his large presence into the room. “We only made arrangements five hours ago.”

“Good,” Hux said, briskly and brightly. “Kettle’s on, do you want tea? Or coffee?”

Kylo was standing in front of the kettle and Hux’s whole tea-and-coffee setup, looking down at the tea and coffee with mild disdain.

“Why do you have instant as well as a cafetière?”

“Because sometimes I run out of ground coffee. It’s there as a backstop.”

Hux suddenly remembered that he actually had run out, and had meant to buy some more today on the way back from classes. “I’d best check if I have some,” he said. “Could you get out of the way, please?”

Kylo moved.

“Damn it.” Hux sighed tetchily. “I have run out. Sorry about that. Didn’t have time to go to the shop because of sorting out all this.”

“So you’re saying it’s my fault? Wow.”

“Not entirely, though you can take it that way. If I may repeat myself — kettle _is_ on, do you want tea or coffee?”

“I don’t like tea. Don’t like instant coffee either,” Kylo said. “If that’s all there is, I’ll have the coffee. But put sugar in it.” He yawned.

“You sound tired,” Hux said.

“I’m fine. Coffee will help.”

“Coffee doesn’t help you function, it just keeps you awake. How much sleep do you get? Sleep is important.”

“Oh my god,” said Kylo. “Look, I’m not going to be _perfect_, like you.”

Hux made a mug of tea for himself, and a mug of instant coffee for Kylo. “How many sugars?”

“Two.”

“Milk?”

“No.”

Kylo at least thanked him when he handed him the mug.

“When did you go to bed last night?”

“What kind of question is that? You’re not my mum.”

“I’m just asking! You have to be up for lectures and you have to be alert enough to study during the day, so something’s got to give. Surely.”

“About half past two. Maybe nearer three.”

“That’s not enough sleep!”

“I was finishing an essay for one of my other classes.”

“At least you were finishing it.”

“Do you _have_ to be an asshole? All the time?”

“Okay, maybe that was uncalled for.”

“So, yeah. But I made myself get up for Sloane’s class, to show you I could do it.”

“Which is great, and well done and all that, but, look, you’ve just got to go to bed earlier.”

Kylo’s laugh was humourless and mocking. “That’s it? That’s your advice? Wow.”

“I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to say. I mean, is it not straightforward?”

Kylo put his nearly empty coffee mug down on the corner of Hux’s desk and exhaled deeply. “I’ll get up for lectures. I’ll fit everything else in. Maybe I’ll go to bed earlier. Maybe not. You’re not going to be coming and switching the lights out at midnight, so…” He shrugged.

“Alright, fair enough. Just trying to help you pass this test.”

Kylo sat down at the desk. “I’m here. I’m not stopping you.”

“Right,” Hux said. ”Yep.” He realised that he ought to be a little conciliatory, or at least pleasant. “Okay, we’ll get started.”

He sat down and opened his copy of the course textbook.

“Were you there for chapter three?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“But not four?

“No.”

Hux got out his notes for the lectures, and found the right pages.

Kylo got out his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Gonna take photos of your notes.”

“Yes, but we’re going to go through them as well. And you ought to make your own notes. Helps you assimilate the information.”

He let Kylo take a photo anyway.

“I thought we could use a sort of pomodoro method,” he said

Kylo maintained a couple of seconds of silence. “What is that?”

“Set a timer, work for 25 minutes, then 5 minutes break.”

“Okay.”

“And at the end of the second 25 minutes, I’ll test you on the topic.”

They settled down and, having set his timer, Hux talked through his notes from Sloane’s lecture on eye movements and visual perception.

Though tired, Kylo was engaging with the material and asking a few of the right sort of questions. Professor Sloane was right — he had the makings of a good student.

The timer sounded.

Kylo stood up and went to the window.

“So is this why you weren't going to Tuesday and Wednesday morning classes?” Hux asked.

“Is what why?”

“Not getting up in time.”

Kylo shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“Not just a lack of loyalty, then.”

“Loyalty? This isn’t the military. _Armie_.”

“Yes, well done, very funny.”

“It _is_ your name.”

“I go by Armitage. Actually. Or just Hux.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Would have thought _you’d_ be more understanding of what name a person went by.”

“Yeah,” Kylo said, a little anger creeping into his tone. “I _know_.”

They spent the rest of the timed five minute break in not-very-companionable silence.

“Alright,” Hux said. “Time for me to test you.”

“Sure,” Kylo said, without much enthusiasm, and sat down heavily in his chair.

“Easy one first. What are the different types of eye movement involved in visual attention?”

“Uh, saccades, pursuit, and, uh, vergence.”

“Good.”

“And the lack of motion blur during saccades is due to…”

“Saccadic masking, which is a pause in image processing in the brain.”

“That’s it.”

“I don’t need to know the specific optical illusions that were referenced, but it might help if I refer to them?”

“Right. You do need to look up the papers referenced in the reading list. Use your uni login.”

“Okay.”

And so they went on.

“When do you want to meet up again?” Hux asked once they were finished. “I can do Friday after 5pm, Saturday preferably morning, or all day Sunday.”

“I can do Friday.”

“We ought to fit in two sessions. You’ve still got a lot to catch up on.”

Kylo sighed. “Oh, alright. Saturday’s no good, though. Got fencing practice.”

“So Sunday?”

“I’ve got reading to do for a Philosophy of Science essay, so I’ll be in the library. If you want to meet there. We could sit in the bit where you’re allowed to talk.”

“Okay. Friday at five, first. Here or yours?”

Kylo shrugged. “Mine, I suppose. I know I’ve got decent coffee in.”

Hux gave him a light glare.

“And Sunday I’ll find you in the library, about two-ish?” he said.

“Yes, fine.”

“Put it in your phone calendar,” Hux said, and stood and watched Kylo do so.

* * *

After a Research Methods in Psychology class on Thursday afternoon, Armitage Hux and Dopheld Mitaka dropped into the student union coffee room, to catch up with their mutual friend Claire Unamo.

“So what’s this about you and Ben Solo?” she asked.

“What? Nothing. I’m helping him catch up with some notes, is all.”

“Oh, right. Just heard you were spending time together.”

“It’s what I said. I’m helping him study for Perception. He got behind and Professor Sloane asked me to be a good influence.”

“Really?” she said, a little archly.

“How did you know about this anyway? Dopheld, have you been gossiping about me?”

“Me? No.”

“Ugh,” Armitage said. “You can’t _breathe_ in this uni without everyone knowing about it.”

“What’s he like, anyway?” asked Claire. “Isn’t he supposed to be a total prick? They used to call him Son of Satan in the first year, didn’t they.”

“Yeah, he is a bit of a dick. But he doesn’t bother me too much.”

“Well, it’s good of you to put up with him. Out of the goodness of your heart,” she said, pointedly.

“He does actually want to catch up and pass the make-up-what-you-missed test.”

“Well.”

“I have to go round to his place later to go over some neuroanatomy.”

“Bet you’re looking forward to that,” Dopheld said sarcastically.

“Oh, I’ve been there before, anyway.”

Dopheld raised an eyebrow. Armitage failed to catch his meaning.

“I was expecting it to be an absolute tip, but it’s actually quite neat. Wouldn’t have had him down as the type to make the bed.”

Claire folded and straightened the empty wrapper of a candy bar. “You don't think he's got the hump with Sloane because she got Snoke fired?” she asked.

‘What,” said Dopheld, “so he’s going to deliberately fail her class as revenge? Unlikely.”

“I mean, the other option isn't great,” Claire said. “There aren't that many women professors on campus. And she’s the only black woman, isn't she?”

“I don't think it’s that,” Armitage said. “He wouldn’t have taken her class if that were the case.”

Claire shrugged. “Suppose so.”

“Personally,” Armitage said, “I just think he should be a bit more respectful all around. Less of a git. He’s capable of it, I’m sure.”

“That’s very trusting of you, Armitage,” said Dopheld.

“He’s well known for only thinking the best of people,” Claire said.

Armitage pursed his lips and huffed at the dig.

“He's changed his name, you know,” he said, moving the conversation on. “He’s not calling himself Ben Solo any more.”

“No? What’s he changed it to?”

“Kylo Ren.”

Dopheld sniggered. “What the hell sort of name is _that_?”

Claire raised an eyebrow.

“Okay. I suppose you _could_ ask what sort of name is Dopheld Kempton McAllister Mitaka Sanchez de la Cruz, point taken. But, to be fair, it _is_ what I was christened. _I_ didn't make it up.”

“I haven’t dared ask where he got the name from, yet,” Armitage said.

“Oh well, do report back,” Claire said. “If you survive.”

* * *

Just a little later, Hux received an email from Professor Sloane. 

> _Armitage, about Ben Solo. He’s changing his name to Kylo Ren. I only just got the official notification about it from Student Services. I hope this hasn’t caused any difficulties._
> 
> _Look forward to seeing you, and Kylo, in class on Tuesday._
> 
> _Regards,_
> 
> _Sloane._

Ah. She hadn’t told him because she didn’t know. This made more sense. Hux didn’t think she would have just forgotten.He wondered exactly when Kylo had put the name change into motion for the name on his door to be changed already. The University Facilities team seemed to be a few steps ahead of the Psychology faculty. Shambles of an organisation, really.

* * *

Armitage and Kylo were having their next scheduled catchup session. They were going over some specifics of visual processing in the brain, and Armitage was getting Kylo to recall the names of the relevant brain structures.

“It’s… ah, shit, I don’t remember what it is.”

“You _sure_ you don’t.”

“Fuck, no, wait. Is it the parahippocampal area or the other one.”

“Come on, you remember.”

Kylo’s hands were flat palm down on top of the textbook. They were, Hux couldn't help noticing, absolutely huge.

“P for place, F for face. The fusiform face area.”

“That’s the one,” Armitage said. ”FFA. And the main study you have to refer to is…”

“Kanwisher et al? Can't remember the year”

“2002. And she discovered both, so, safe bet.”

“Ok, cool.”

“And when is the FFA involved in processing non-face objects?”

“When it’s other stuff that the individual has expert knowledge of. Like, cars. That's the… expertise model.”

“Great!”

Kylo was a lot less annoying when they were actually getting into the nuts and bolts of facts and theories and references. And he seemed fairly happy to be going on with the arrangement. Perhaps happy was too strong a word. He seemed to be accepting it, in a not overly begrudging way.

They took a break, and Hux had a question.

“I never actually asked you why you’re doing this Psychology module. Just out of interest.”

“I’m interested in the philosophy of mind,” Kylo said. “I’m doing the Philosophy of Mind module in Philosophy and I’m probably going to take the advanced module next year. So I wanted to have the other side of things. The psychology and neuroscience side.”

“Oh, okay, that makes a lot of sense.”

“I think the neuroscience side is missing a lot.”

“Oh really, how so?”

“I think there are epistemological limits about what we can know about minds. I don’t think we can always map mind states, qualia, onto brain states.”

“We can do a lot more that we used to. Imaging advances in the last thirty years are beyond what we could have imagined.”

Kylo shook his head. “However good your MRI scanner is, or whatever future technology you posit, I don’t think it can remove subjectivity from theory of mind.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, that’s the flaw in Jackson’s basic knowledge argument for property dualism, you know, Monochrome Mary?”

Hux nodded as if he knew.

Kylo carried on, obviously being right into his stride. “Churchland and Dennett pointed this out and thought they'd undermined it, but for me it reinforces the whole thing. The point _isn’t_ that if someone lives in a monochrome room and studies visual perception, knows everything about it, then sees the colour red that they aren’t learning anything they _didn’t already know_, but that it isn’t _possible_ to know everything about it. I’m basically a _pragmatic_ property dualist. Which is the same as my approach to realism and anti-realism in philosophy of science, which is why I'm right and Dr Phillips is wrong, but that's another story.”

Hux looked around Kylo’s room. It was fairly monochrome itself, with white walls, black and white posters, black pillowcases and duvet cover on the bed.

“You’re someone who lives in a monochrome room and _hasn’t_ been studying visual perception.”

Kylo gave him a weird look and shook his head. “You have to make everything bitchy, don’t you.”

“It would have been neglectful not to have taken that shot, to be quite honest,” Hux said.

* * *

Saturday was a day blissfully without Kylo Ren.

* * *

On Sunday, Hux went to the library for two o’clock. Part of him was still expecting Kylo to not have bothered to be there.

But there he was. It was impossible to miss him, as he was having an argument with one of the librarians at the desk.

Kylo turned and stalked away from the desk, looking deadly, and spotted Hux. His expression changed, from murderous to sullen and slightly embarrassed.

He sat down with Hux and pulled his folders out of his bag. “Okay, I’m here,” he said. ”What do you want to do?”

Hux couldn’t help glancing at Kylo as they went through the notes together. What was he supposed to do, he thought, ignore him completely?

He noticed Kylo’s ear poking out through the curtain of his hair. It was obvious why he’d grown his hair, to cover them. There was something about the way it looked, that little unguarded sliver of ear, that made Kylo seem more… Hux didn’t quite know. More ordinary, he supposed. More approachable. And there was no harm in that.

* * *

Hux made sure to text Kylo on Tuesday morning to make sure he was going to class.

“Obviously I’m going to class leave me alone or I’ll be late,” was the answer.

He did get to class, arriving just a minute after Hux did. And this time, when Professor Sloane asked if there were any questions, Kylo actually put his hand up and asked a relevant question.

Will wonders never cease, Hux thought.

* * *

Later that day, on the way from his Statistics class, Hux ran into Professor Sloane.

“Oh, Armitage, I wanted to speak to you,” she said.

“Oh, of course.”

“I just wanted to say you seem to be having the right sort of influence.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“Our friend Kylo has made three classes in a row, and he’s even participating.”

“Yes. He’s, um, doing well. I’m helping him catch up with what he missed.”

“Oh, good,” Sloane said.

“So he’d better pass.”

Sloane laughed. “Well, you keep up the good work,” she said. “Apparently, you’re quite a good teacher.”

Armitage looked confused for a second.

“He even knows when my office hours are,” Sloane said, and went on her way with a big smile.

Hux felt an immense wave of pride. Kylo was doing well under his influence, Sloane had noticed, and Kylo had even told her that Hux was good at the job. He’d never have said as much to Hux’s face, but he didn’t care about that.

* * *

Armitage sat with Claire and Dopheld in the cafeteria.

“How’s it going, tutoring the slacker boy?” asked Dopheld.

“Rather well, actually.”

“You’re taking it seriously,” Claire commented.

“Absolutely I am,” Armitage said. “He’s my project now. Whether he knows it or not. And he is _not_ going to fail the catch up test.”

“So he’s on course to pass?”

“I believe so. He still has three lectures to catch up on, and then I’ll probably get him to revise everything.”

“He hasn’t missed any classes,” Dopheld said. “So maybe he’s turned over a new leaf.”

“Do you wake him up in the mornings, then?” asked Claire.

“No,” Armitage said, huffily. “I do text him, and call if he doesn’t text back.”

“Vanessa said you were round there in the morning.”

“That was once! And it turned out it wasn’t needed.”

“I’m only teasing,” Claire said.

“So do you like it,” Dopheld said, “teaching someone? Would you do it as a career?”

“I do like explaining things. And it turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

Dopheld laughed. “God's sake, your big head.”

“What? And he’s actually quite a good learner, when he puts his mind to it. And if he doesn’t, he’s going to fail, so he’s not really got much choice.”

“When’s the test, next week?”

“Yeah, next Tuesday. So exactly a week.”

“When’s your foreign language assessment?” Dopheld asked.

“Had mine for Italian,” Claire said.

“Had mine for French, too,” Armitage said. “Think it went okay.”

* * *

Armitage got his results from his French assessment. His confidence had been misplaced.

* * *

They were in Kylo’s room again. He had a couple of books stacked up on the desk, and a photocopy of a journal article. Hux couldn’t help noticing that the books were French philosophy texts.

He felt a sudden stab of envy. Why did Kylo have to be good at this? He needed to find out what the story was here.

“Oh, so you’re reading French?” he said, in an attempt at being offhand and casual.

“Yeah. I’m reading Barthes and Lacan in the original, partly to compare with the translation.”

How _pretentious_.

“It’s for the Continental Philosophy module,” Kylo added.

“I’m doing the French elective,” Hux said.

“Oh, right.” Kylo paused, and seemed to sense something. “Going well, is it?”

“Actually,” Hux said, “actually no.”

“Really,” Kylo said. “That’s rather unfortunate. Especially for you.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Trust me, it’s funny.”

“Oh, fuck off. It’s only an elective. And I’ve been concentrating on my main subjects, obviously, And I think I thought it was going to be easier than it was. I got a C.”

“How will you ever show your face,” said Kylo, deadpan.

“Look! You were on the verge of failing. So don’t you start.”

“Why are you taking the French course anyway?”

“It’s a string to my bow, isn’t it?”

Kylo rolled his eyes.

“It’s well known that a modern language makes you more employable,” Hux said. “And a lot of people don’t bother with it, so I thought, you know. Competitive advantage.”

“Oh I see. This is you planning your life out in minuscule detail. A skill for your CV. One step closer to conquering the world.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all, goes perfectly with your little knit sweaters and oxford shoes.”

‘I should have known not to mention it.”

Kylo pushed the two French philosophy books to the back of the desk, to make more room for Hux.

“What level are you on?” Kylo asked.

“I need to get to B1 standard so I can get to B2 next year.”

“Uh huh.”

Kylo fiddled with his pen, and bit on his lip. There was something particularly appealing about him when he was thinking.

“I could help you,” he said. “You need a teacher, too.”

“I suppose.”

“Doesn’t that make it better? You’re helping me study to catch up on Perception, and I’ll help you with your French course.”

“What, you mean make it a trade? You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Alright. Getting you caught up on Psychology has to be the priority, though.”

“Next time, bring something from your French class and I’ll help you with it.”

Kylo seemed more comfortable, now that the study sessions were going to be a trade, a quid pro quo.

“Right now, we need to go over the auditory perception stuff,” Hux said.

Kylo didn’t reply.

“The auditory perception stuff? From week five.”

“Oh, sorry,” Kylo said. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Oh, very funny.”

“It was funny. Come on. You’ve got to admit that.”

Hux hated to be laughed at. Hated to have the piss taken. But this seemed, well, hardly mean spirited. And Kylo’s wry smile at his own joke was rather attractive.

Hux stopped that thought in its tracks.

“Have you got your notes?”

* * *

There was a lot to work on, so it was decided they would meet up again the next day to finish the auditory perception and processing notes.

Armitage suggested Kylo drop round his room around four or five.

* * *

They had just finished revising the second lecture on auditory perception and processing which Kylo had missed, and were taking one of Armitage’s scheduled five minute breaks.

Kylo turned around in his chair, to where Hux was making tea and coffee (proper coffee this time).

“Why did you say I wasn’t loyal? Back when you started bossing me around. No sugar in that by the way.”

Hux plunged the cafetière, and poured. “It’s not ‘bossing around’. I’m helping you.”

That earned a look from Kylo. Justifiable, really.

“Well,” Hux said, “if I’m going to be honest, I _do_ think Professor Sloane deserves more respect. That’s your coffee,” he added, and passed it to Kylo.

“From whom? Me? Or in general?”

“Look, you’ve got to realise that she has her detractors.”

Kylo shrugged vaguely and nodded.

Hux carried on. “You know it’s because she had something to do with Professor Snoke getting fired.”

Kylo sipped his coffee and mused for a moment. “Yeah, she did. Huh.”

“And there are apparently a few people who hold a grudge against her based on that.”

“That, I can see.”

“I mean, you might say it’s nothing to do with us as students, but I don’t agree.”

”There were students at the protest against Snoke,” Kylo said.

“_And_ the counter-protest.”

“Yeah. I didn’t have anything to do with that, though.”

“Not saying you did,” said Hux, confused at having to clarify.

“No. Fuck Snoke. I’m not doing a damn thing for him.”

This was obviously a sore point.

Kylo breathed deeply for a little while. “I’m glad he’s gone. Damn right I’m glad he’s gone. So yeah. I get what you’re saying.”

Hux figured that there was a story to be told here, but perhaps now wasn’t the time to get into it. They had a rather nice ongoing truce and it wasn’t right to spoil it.

* * *

They hadn’t had time for Kylo to help Hux with his foreign language elective, but they’d got enough done towards Kylo’s work. Tomorrow they’d be able to make a start on the language stuff. Hux was looking forward to it, and felt kind of odd about it. He did need someone to give him some help, to save the embarrassment of having to admit he’d maybe bitten off more than he could chew. Which of course he hadn’t. He’d just failed to adequately prioritise.

He was definitely thinking about Kylo in a certain way — looking forward to seeing him, thinking in some idle moments about how he looked hunched over his work, with his hair hanging down around his face, how he looked when he smiled, which was rare and all the more valuable for it. It would make things complicated. He would be very professional about everything, is what he would do, and simply pretend his thoughts weren’t there.

He tried to remind himself that Kylo was _technically_ not good looking at all. He was _technically_ rather ugly, with his asymmetric face (many studies showed symmetric faces were widely considered more attractive), his ears, his large nose (Hux had no research literature to reference on this point) and his odd jaw line.

It didn’t do much good.

He tried to imagine Claire Unamo making a disapproving face and saying, “Good god, Armitage, he looks like a shoe,” and that didn’t help enormously either.

* * *

“Okay,” Kylo said. “I’m not completely sure how we should go about this.”

They were about to start on Hux’s French elective.

“I mean,” he said, “you had everything super organised for me, and, uh, my mind doesn’t work exactly like that.”

“I’ve got some stuff my course instructor gave me,” Hux said. “Photocopied bits and pieces.”

“Oh, okay. So we look at those, and take it from there?”

Hux pulled out a few sheets from his folder.

“He wants me to practise reading, using these as sort of comprehension exercises. And I have to get better at writing short texts.”

“Okay.”

Kylo took one of the sheets and skimmed over it.

“So, you read that, and then we’ll go over the questions,” he said.

Hux felt embarrassed at finding a simple reading comprehension exercise difficult. The answers were obviously in the text. He must have skimmed over them, or thought he’d understood when he hadn’t.

Kylo was helpful, though. He pointed him at the right part of the text, and let him find the word he’d missed.

“Don’t laugh at my pronunciation,” Hux said.

“I’m not.”

“Not much. Tell me how it’s supposed to be, then.”

“I’ll try.”

Hux repeated the words he hadn’t understood well, and noted them down, too. “I think I’ve got it. I’ll remember that.”

“Wouldn’t you be better off with a native speaker,” Kylo asked.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t really have time to ask anyone else for help.”

“Oh. _M. Penses-à-tout n’a pas pensé à tout,_” Kylo said.

“Don’t be an arse.”

“What?”

“Don’t just insult me in French when the whole point of this is I don’t understand enough of what you’re saying.”

“Oh, come on,” Kylo said. “You should be able to work that one out. It’s fairly basic.”

"How come you get to be so fluent anyway?"

"My uncle Lando. He's, like, half French Armenian on his dad's side."

"So, wait, you're part French?"

"No, he's not my actual uncle related by blood, just, you know, a friend uncle."

Hux did not really know. 

Once finished, Hux packed up his things to leave.

He stopped at the door. “Kylo?” 

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for helping me out,” he said, awkward and embarrassed to have to say it, but knowing he really ought to. “You didn’t have to.”

“_T’es pas le pire des connards_,” Kylo said, with a shrug.

Hux thought, as he trotted down the stairs from Kylo’s room, that he’d better find out what that meant.

* * *

He was spending an hour almost every day with Kylo. An hour at least. And it really wasn’t the worst thing. They still seemed to needle each other, but there wasn’t real venom in it.

And there was the fact that he wasn’t finding Kylo any less attractive as time went on.

Perhaps he’d just let himself enjoy it, and not let Kylo find out. If he remembered that he was doing this first and foremost as a favour to Professor Sloane, and that his own pride was really the reward.

The next day they’d be meeting up again for a final catch-up session for Kylo, and for Armitage to hopefully get some pointers on his foreign language writing skills.

* * *

Kylo suggested Armitage write a couple of hundred words about what they were doing and why.

“Okay. So. ‘I’m helping someone study for a test’ “

“Yeah.”

“_J’aide un_, um, _ami_? Or _copain_?”

“Either will do.”

“I mean we’re not even friends,” said Hux, “so…”

“It doesn’t have to be accurate, does it? It just has to make sense.”

“True. Does one of those mean, like, not just friends—”

“They can technically both mean boyfriend.”

“Well, I can put something else then,” Hux said, very quickly.

“_Copain_ should be alright. Or you could put _camarade de classe_. Classmate.”

Hux typed slowly and read out the words as he went. “_J’aide un camarade de classe… à étudier pour un examen. Il a manqué_… no, wait.”

“You want to say I missed some classes,” Kylo said.

“Yeah.”

“I like how this writing composition is just about me and my shortcomings.”

“It’s a topic, isn’t it?”

“_Manquer_ is right.”

“_Il a manque des classes, et la prof_… she advised him?”

“_Lui a conseillé_”

“_Elle… lui a conseillé de… étudier avec quelqu’un_.”

“You could say… wait, I’m gonna look this up. Move over.”

Kylo leant across, opened a browser tab and started typing. “Okay, yeah, you could say ‘_partenaire de travail_’ for work partner or study partner, I think.”

“So, what?”

“You could say he had to find a work partner.”

“_Il a… du… trouver un partenaire de travail._”

“Yeah. If you’re going to be honest, _elle lui a assigné un partenaire de travail, c’etait pas du tout son propre choix_.”

“Alright, whatever,” Hux said. He kept on typing. “_La prof l’a donné_”

“_Lui a donné_.”

“Okay. I find those very confusing.”

“The subject and object pronouns?”

“Yes. Never know which one to use or where to put them.”

“_Il_ and _elle_ are subject, _lui_ is indirect object for both. So gave him or gave her is _lui a donné_. And it goes before the verb.”

“Okay.”

“You were nearly right.”

“_La prof lui a donné… la chance… de passer un examen pour_… uh… catch up?”

“Uh, _regagner_. No, _rattraper_.”

“Ok.”

“If you want to say ‘catch up on what he missed’ you could say ‘_rattraper ce qu’il a manqué_.’”

“Right.”

“You could call the test an ‘_examen de rattrapage_’ I think.”

“_Nous avons étudié ensemble, et il a rattrapé beaucoup de…_ _ce qu’il a manqué_.”

“Nice.”

_“L’examen est le mardi prochain, donc nous avons…” _he paused to think,_” encore… cinq jours. J’espère qu’il va réussir.”_

“Nice. Um, _très bien. Et il est comment comme étudiant, ton camarade de classe?”_

“Huh?”

_“Il est comment comme étudiant, ton camarade de classe? _How is he as a student, your classmate?”

“Um.” Armitage shrugged. “_Pas mal. Il est intelligent. Il apprend… assez vite_.” He paused again and formulated another sentence. “_Quand il veut._”

“Hm. Suppose that’s fair,” Kylo said.

* * *

Hux was in the laundry room of his accommodation block, waiting for his clothes to finish in the washing machine.

He had a notebook and his Perception notes with him, and he was working out a last minute revision session for Kylo. Tomorrow was the last day before the test, and he really wanted to be sure that Kylo knew everything he needed to know. He had to not just pass the test, but ace it. It would reflect well on both of them.

* * *

They managed to squeeze in the quick last minute session. Kylo had remembered almost everything from the syllabus, and Hux was confident on his behalf. Professor Sloane had scheduled the catch-up test for eleven on Tuesday the ninth. That was after their morning class with her.

Kylo promised to text Hux as soon as the test was over.

* * *

After their Tuesday morning class, Hux wished Kylo good luck. As the time went by, during his Stats class, he felt himself getting a little nervous by proxy.

At a quarter past twelve, he got a text message.

> (Kylo): Just finished test
> 
> (Hux): How did it go?
> 
> (Kylo): I think okay
> 
> (Hux): Good. That’s good
> 
> (Hux): well done
> 
> (Hux): when does Sloane mark the test
> 
> (Kylo): by Friday
> 
> (Hux): OK
> 
> (Kylo): hopefully before then

* * *

The next day was Wednesday, which meant another 9 am Perception class.

Hux could see Kylo was sat in his now usual place near the front. He found himself glancing across, as if he was checking that Kylo was still there. Which made no sense.Of course he was still there.

* * *

It was getting on for half two, and he really ought to be getting on and meeting up with Kylo for their study session. Then he realised that there was no study session for today, because Kylo had already sat the catch-up test.

He felt a little disappointed.

He went back to his room anyway, to work on his essay for Dr Evans, for the Behavioural Psychology module. 

Maybe he could ask if Kylo wanted to help him with more of the French grammar. Or he could just get the books out and do it by himself. But it was nice to have someone to ask. He didn’t want to be needy, and Kylo was probably very glad to have a break from him. It was silly to want to study with him just purely in order to indulge a pointless crush. Time for everything to get back to normal, he thought. He would at least be able to jerk off in the shower without worrying that he was going to think about Kylo during, or, worse, afterwards.

* * *

On Thursday afternoon, Hux was in Tesco with a basket of student groceries (bread, butter, milk, coffee, orange juice, sausage rolls, hummus) when his phone buzzed twice with text message alerts. He finished and paid before getting his phone out of his pocket.

The last message was from Kylo.

> (Kylo): thought you’d like to know I passed
> 
> (Hux): well done!
> 
> (Kylo): I got an A-
> 
> (Hux): that’s great
> 
> (Kylo): I’ll see you next class I guess
> 
> (Kylo): or I’ll be in the library later
> 
> (Kylo): I’m being good now. And boring.
> 
> (Hux): it’s not boring to work hard!

Hux was _so_ proud.

It was a fairly short walk home with the shopping bags. He quickly packed away his food into his mini-fridge and his food shelf, grabbed a folder, shoved his laptop into his laptop bag, and made for the library.

He found a spot just by the place where they’d studied together a couple of times, and got himself sorted out. He knew he could really have been doing all this back in his room, but there was no law to say he shouldn’t be in the library. He looked up citations for his essay, and glanced up at the library entrance. He worked a little more, glanced up, etc etc.

He was looking up at just the right time. Kylo came in, in his black jeans and a big grey cardigan jacket, looking kind of shyly pleased with himself.

Hux got up from his work and went to meet him.

“Hey,” Kylo said.

“Well done.”

“Yeah. I, uh. Thanks. For your help.”

Then, inexplicably, Kylo’s arms opened, and pulled him in to a sudden hug.

It was over before Hux could think how to react. There had been a _hug_, a very definite hug, awkward and brief though it was. Was it even appropriate to hug in the library?

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m, um, glad. I’m really glad you passed, and did so well.”

“Listen,” Kylo said. He ran his hand through his hair. “I mean, we could still meet up here. Or wherever.”

“Yes, definitely,” Hux said. “It’s worked quite well, hasn’t it?”

“I mean, I’ve mostly got Philosophy essays to write, so you won’t have much to quiz me on.”

“Doesn’t matter. I suppose I can check your word count?”

“Yeah. That’d work,” Kylo said.

“Or you can pontificate at me.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love it. Do you still want me to help with your French stuff?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay. That’s great.”

“Come over if you want, um, when you’re free.”

* * *

Kylo dropped round to Hux’s room, with a bag of books and stapled together printouts.

“Is it okay if I work on my Kant essay?” he asked. “You can keep me accountable and I can, whatever, help you.”

“Yes, of course. I’ve got a bunch of papers to read and make notes on for Social Psychology. I’ll put the kettle on.”

“Thanks. It’s harder to get distracted here.”

It was oddly comfortable, this way they’d found of working side by side at a desk that, although very large, was really only meant for one student. Armitage kept himself very neat in front of his laptop with an open notepad and pen for note-scribbling, and Kylo tried not to spread out too much on his end of the desk.

There was still something awkward about the way Kylo sat in chairs. He and Armitage were both tall, but Kylo had this way of folding his legs and angling his upper body that was very… well, idiosyncratic.

They took a scheduled break, and Kylo got up and stretched his legs, pulling each foot right back behind his ass to stretch out his quads.

It was alright for _him_ to say it was harder to get distracted here.

“Kylo?” Hux said, “There’s something I don’t get.”

“What?”

“I wanted to ask you this before, but, why change your name? I get that people know who your family are, but they’re not that bad? Are they?”

Kylo looked out of the window, off into the distance for a few seconds. “No. They’re not. It’s not about that.”

“I mean, I couldn’t find your room at first because I was looking for the wrong name.”

Kylo shrugged. “Sloane should have had my new details,” he said.

“She didn’t, though, as it turned out.”

“Well that’s not my fault.”

“I know. Wasn’t saying it was,” Hux said. “Honestly.”

Kylo sighed. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with my family. And I wouldn’t tell you if there was. But _you know who they are_. That’s the point. I don’t want to be, you know, Leia Organa’s son, Han Solo’s son.” He gestured broadly with one arm. “Everyone looking at me, seeing my name, and thinking, okay, here we go, here’s the spoilt prince, here’s the famous people’s kid. I got fed up of it.”

“I suppose,” said Hux. “But. Well.” He felt his face pinch up reflexively. “People know who _my_ father is, too.”

Hux’s father had been quite a name in the field of behavioural psychology back in the 1990s. Until it had emerged that his studies had been in breach of just about every professional ethics standard going. Participants had been coerced into signing release forms, Dr Hux had lied to them about the content and context of the study, and the experiences they had had were in many cases downright abusive.

“Yeah, I know,” said Kylo. “And I almost don’t understand why you don't change your name, to be honest. Especially with you doing Psychology of all subjects.”

“Well, yes.”

“So you’re okay with it? People see your name and think of your father? You could have changed your name, made life easier on yourself.”

“I wouldn’t say I was okay with it, as such. I mean, define okay.”

“I’m not doing the abnormal psych module. I wouldn’t want to make an uneducated comment.”

Hux sighed. “They’re going to know who I am anyway. So why not just say fuck it. I don’t have much to do with my father. It’s pretty obvious I don’t. I want to feel like I’m making a deliberate point by being here.”

“Okay, yeah, I think I get you.”

“One day, when people hear the name Hux, they’re going to think of me, and not my father. And they’re going to have to say ‘oh yes, there was a B Hux as well, back in the 90s.’ ”

“You’re not worried people will make assumptions about you?”

“I know I have to ace the research methods module,” Hux said. "Prove it that way."

It was odd to be having this conversation with Kylo of all people. Armitage didn’t talk about his father much at all, and usually batted the topic away.

“You probably will,” Kylo said. “You’re nailed on for a first in pretty much everything from what I hear.”

* * *

Kylo had texted him. Come over and make me finish my essay, he’d said.

So there he was. He hadn’t even considered declining the invitation. There was nowhere he would rather be.

They’d sat at Kylo’s desk while Kylo had got the essay almost finished, and Hux had got in with his own study and tried not to have thoughts about the way Kylo twisted his feet around each other when he was thinking, or the way he sucked on the end of a pen.

Then Kylo declared that he needed to clear his head from his essay for a few minutes before going back to it. So he was now sitting on his bed, up against wall, his long legs stretching out over the side.

Now, Hux’s room had the sofa for sitting on, and the bed was tucked away in an alcove, not right out there in the room. He preferred it that way.

He imagined, briefly, being the sort of person who would sit down on the bed, next to Kylo. The sort of person for whom this sort of thing came easily. When they were sitting side by side to work, that was one thing. But this would be something else and he felt he couldn’t risk it.

He stood up and started wandering around the room, pacing, standing awkwardly up against the desk, and for some reason, to quell the possibility of an awkward silence, he was talking about how he thought the main entrance to the psychology department was badly designed and the bike racks were all in the wrong place.

“Stop pacing around! This room’s too small for pacing.”

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

Kylo patted the bed beside him. “Sit down here.”

Now it was a real and actual problem, not just a potential difficulty.

He perched on the corner of the bed. The duvet cover was soft under his hands. They weren’t exactly side by side and it already felt dangerous. They could — something _could_ happen. It was awkward and terrifying and he wished he wasn’t just perching there like some idiot bird.

He glanced across at Kylo, caught his eye and looked away again.

“Glad you stopped pacing around,” Kylo said. “It was driving me crazy.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s what you do.”

“Oh.”

“You drive me crazy.”

“There’s surely a school of thought that says you were crazy to start with,” Hux said. He knew it was the wrong thing to say when he was saying it, as he heard it come out of his mouth, too sharp.

Kylo was already getting up from the bed and starting the two short strides back to his desk.

“Okay. Back to work,” he snapped, and sat heavily down in his chair. “Plenty to_ get on with_,” he added, his voice growing more angry in tone.

“Yes, you’re right,” Hux said, suddenly very professional and correct.

He quietly buried himself in his work. Packing his things and going would have meant admitting more than he wanted to. Best to just get on with it. Kylo would have to dare to throw him out.

* * *

Kylo had sent an email. Perhaps it was an apology. Perhaps it was a demand for one.

> If you would like to meet up again, I wouldn't mind. We could go over Wednesday’s lecture. And if you want to work on French grammar for your class.

Hux replied:

> Yes, that’d be great. Come over tomorrow if you want.

Kylo replied straight away:

> Ok. I guess I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was stressed out._ C’est difficile quand on commence a craquer pour quelqu’un, en particulier quand c’est un vrai trou-de-cul comme toi. _See you tomorrow.

Kylo was still at it with the French. Infuriating. It looked like some sort of insult, but Hux wouldn’t dwell on it now. He knew he’d made things more awkward than they had to be, in Kylo’s room, by saying the wrong thing, and it was for the best if they just kept things professional. He hadn’t meant to be attracted to Kylo in the first place.

If there was a way around it, he didn’t know what it was. It was the sort of thing that most people would probably ask their friends about. But there was no point in asking Dopheld or Claire. They’d be no help at all.

* * *

Hux knew had been called an asshole. In one of Kylo’s emails he’d written “_connard_” and Hux knew that was asshole, and he’d said whatever it was, _“t’es pas le pire des connards.”_ In this latest email he’d actually said “_un vrai trou-de-cul comme toi_” which was literally asshole.

But he’d hugged him in the library, and he was very happy to carry on studying together, and he was being much nicer than he had been to start with.

Maybe he just needed to insult Hux where he might not be able to understand it. Perhaps it was a game, waiting until he called him out on it.

He opened google translate, and pasted the first phrase in. _T’es pas le pire des connards._ You are not the worst asshole. Well. That’s what he thought it had said. And it seemed like the relationship between them as he understood it. Kylo had conceded that he wasn’t the worst person in the world, and they were getting on with studying together, and sort of making friends.

Then he did the same with the other one.

_C’est difficile quand on commence a craquer pour quelqu’un, en particulier quand c’est un vrai trou-de-cul comme toi._

Google gave him “It's difficult when you start to crack for someone, especially when it's a real ass-hole like you.” Which didn’t entirely make sense.

He remembered that Kylo had told him Google Translate was useless and he should be using a proper dictionary, ideally a monolingual one. He looked up _craquer_ in his paperback dictionary to see if it had other meanings, but it wasn’t very helpful.

Kylo had said that Wiktionary was quite good.

Craquer.(<https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/craquer>)

(ergative) to split, to break - Ok, yes obviously

(organic chemistry) to crack (petroleum) - same as in English then

(intransitive) to crack, to creak, to crunch - and that too

(informal, intransitive) to give up, to break down, to crack - that’s what he probably means

(informal, followed by pour) to fall for, to become infatuated with. Elle est vraiment belle. J'ai craqué pour elle. — She's so beautiful. I've fallen in love with her.

Oh.

“It’s difficult _when you start to fall for someone_, especially when it’s a real asshole like you.”

Oh. He’d maybe had the right idea in the first place, when he’d felt there was something potentially maybe going on, and he’d felt weird about going and sitting on Kylo’s bed, because it was all too… possible. He’d messed it up by being too nervous.

Well. Whatever, they were going to have to talk about this. Of course it all depended on whether Kylo intended him to understand what he’d said. But that was silly. He was supposed to be helping him with his French study so that he’d get better at understanding.

And he’d used the available resources to research and come to the correct answer. Which was good practice.

* * *

Hux was prepared. He had the email, and he had the dictionary to refer to. He was as prepared as he could be, although he didn’t entirely know for what. If he was going to _really_ be getting ahead of himself, he had supplies, procured from the student sexual health centre at the start of the year and barely dipped into. That _would_ be getting ahead of himself. But the game had changed, and new possibilities were open.

Kylo arrived. He had his hair pulled up on top of his head into a little half bun, and he was wearing training pants. He’d obviously come from or was on the way to some sort of sport activity. Or maybe he just wanted to look that way today.

In any case it made Hux feel a lot less prepared than he had been five minutes earlier. He made his best attempt at acting normally, however, so they could sit down at the desk and be ready to start.

“By the way,” he said, pulling out his phone and opening his emails. “When you said in your email,” and he read the next bit out carefully,“ ‘_c’est difficile quand on commence a craquer pour quelq’un’ _and then you called me an asshole—”

Kylo turned and looked at him. There was a mixture of expectation and dread on his face.

“That ‘_craquer pour quelqu’un_,” Hux said, feeling nervous too, “that means that you’re, uh, it means you like someone.”

Kylo looked even more troubled.

“Ren?”

“You’re a quick learner, Hux,” he said.

Hux took a breath and ploughed on. “I thought, when I read it, that you were just calling me an asshole. Or you were saying that you were working hard for me or something, and I was being an asshole about it.”

“Right.”

“But I looked it up. On Wiktionary.”

“Right.”

“And it turns out ‘_craquer pour quelqu’un_’ is ‘to fall for someone.’”

“Yes. You got it right.”

“Do you — do you mean it?”

“I wasn’t joking. I… maybe I shouldn’t have said it. That’s me, isn’t it. Going in two-footed.”

“I shouldn’t have taken so long to find out what it meant. Stupid of me.”

“Do you need me to go? I can go.”

“No. Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I’m not opposed to what you’re saying.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m… yeah, I like you. You’re, uh,” and he lost all his words.

“Hux,” Kylo said. Just his name. It sounded honest and desperate.He reached his hand along the desk, and Hux closed the distance between them, and let their fingers overlap.

It was terribly hot in the room.

“Should we… I don’t know?”

“You’d better do _something_.”

Kylo lurched up from his chair, and Hux, holding onto his hand, followed him up and led him down onto the sofa.

They sat side by side, hand in hand, and Hux stared at Kylo’s ridiculous face, at his brown eyes, his long nose, his cute little clusters of moles, his wide sad mouth that he was without any doubt going to kiss, soon, imminently, immediately, now. His heart pounded and he couldn’t have wanted to stop himself. He leaned forward just a little.

Just enough.

Kylo’s mouth was soft and warm. He kissed with an awkward kind of need, his big nose nudging Hux’s cheek, and Hux definitely, definitely liked it a lot.

He was still holding Kylo’s hand, gently squeezing it. Kylo’s other hand had slipped slowly onto his back, holding gently onto his waist, big and warm.

“We’re really doing this,” Kylo said.

“We are.”

“I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

“Me too. I mean, I like you. I guess that’s obvious now.”

“I didn’t think I was going to like you. But you’re really cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You are,” Kylo said, squeezing his waist. He followed up with another kiss. His lips were by now already deliciously familiar.

Hux broke off from it. “You should have said something.”

“I did.”

“You could have said something _in English_.”

“Didn’t want to.” Kylo looked away for a second, adorably shy. “You could have said something too,” he said.

“I couldn’t, not _really_. I mean, I didn’t even know if you’d be interested at all. Like_ at all_, at all.”

“I’m interested,” Kylo said.

“I mean I didn’t know if you were into guys full stop,” Hux said. “I had no reason to think you were, so, you know, wasn’t going to risk it.”

“You say no reason?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I thought I was, like, obviously bisexual.”

Hux looked at Kylo, into his pretty brown eyes and down at his big stupid pouty mouth, and realised that Kylo believed himself to be making _any_ sort of sense at all. “What do you mean, _obviously_?”

“I’m a goth swordsman. I thought it was, like… I dunno, I just figured.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Yeah, so. Here we are anyway.” He cuddled Hux a little closer. “I knew you were,” he said.

“Yes, I _am_ gay. Well done. Which is _why_ it was _you_ who should have said something.”

“I did. Just told you I did. _Connard_.”

“You do think I’m an asshole, don’t you?”

“Yeah. It’s why I like you,” Kylo said and kissed him again.

“You’re incredibly annoying,” Hux said in between kisses. “But for some reason I really like it.”

Kylo had both arms around him, and Hux decided to dedicate himself fully to the kissing, letting it get deeper, longer, wetter. Time was passing, in seconds or minutes, and he felt he could get lost in how good it felt and how happy he was that he’d got what he wanted.

Kylo scooped up Hux’s legs and tucked them over his own, so Hux was very nearly sitting in his lap. Hux put his arms around Kylo’s shoulders and rested against him, feeling the heat of his body through the thin layers of clothing separating them.

Kylo's ears, Hux noticed, had got very pink.

Hux leaned down and sucked an earlobe between his lips It was hot against his tongue.

Kylo groaned. “You’re going to find all the good spots,” he said.

Hux adjusted his legs for comfort, with his right thigh right up against Kylo. He felt not just warmth but a very definite, _very_ definite hardness. He pushed his thigh against it.

Kylo bit his lip and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I _am_ into you,” he said.

It felt like a very nice size. Hux looked down for more of a visual assessment. A lovely hard-on, right up against the waistband of Kylo’s sweatpants. The longer he stared, the more he felt absolutely breathless and dizzy with lust. His long untucked shirt was hiding his own situation, and the thought, with sudden abandon, that he wished it wasn't, that he wanted Kylo to know what effect he was having.

They were here now. They'd crossed the line. They were past the point of no return. He could do what he wanted. Follow his instincts.

Kylo knew he was looking and knew he liked it.

“Can I?” he asked, and let his left hand trail down from Kylo’s shoulder to his groin.

“Yes. Fuck yes.”

He let his hand close over Kylo’s erection, and watched Kylo bite his lip again and blush.

“I’ve been fantasising about this for ages,” Kylo said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. About your hands. About you putting your hands on me.”

“You like my hands?”

“Yeah.”

“I like this,” Hux said, and gave Kylo’s cock a squeeze.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Kylo said. “Lie down. I want to…”

Hux lay down on the couch, with his knees tucked up and his feet up against the arm rest. He pulled his shirt up a little way, and took the opportunity to stroke himself through his jeans.

“If you’re going to get up on here, take your shoes off,” he said.

Kylo giggled as he took his shoes off, then climbed up and positioned himself on top of Hux, up on his elbows, half straddling him.

He slowly thrust up against Hux’s body, pressing down deliciously against Hux’s own cock, making breathless little gasps as he went, his breath hot against Hux’s neck.

Hux grabbed onto Kylo’s thighs and ass. Kylo had really nice legs, and he could feel the firmness of his thighs through his sweatpants. People should be queuing up to admire Kylo’s legs, he thought.

“Feels so good with you,” Kylo was saying. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Listen," Hux said, "how far do you want to go? In case we need anything. Or if… you know, first date.”

“I don’t want to stop doing this,” Kylo said.He kept slowly grinding against Hux, pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down on him. His face was flushed and he looked more lovely than Hux had ever seen him. “Don’t want to stop, but I’m gonna come in my pants if I don’t. You’re just so…”

Hux went for his own jeans to undo his fly. “Come on then, let’s get these out of the way.”

Kylo made room for Hux to pull his jeans and boxers down just enough, and then yanked down his own clothes. “Your cock is _gorgeous_,” he said, looking down as he got them aligned.

Kylo’s dick felt so good against him, pre-come smearing against his dick and his belly.

“You get pretty wet, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I like it,” Hux whispered. “I like your big wet cock on me.”

The effect was immediate. Kylo gasped and thrust hard up against him. “Oh, nobody said you were _dirty_. Fuck, you’re incredible.” He kept rutting against him, getting breathless, panting, making little gasping sighs.

Hux grabbed Kylo’s naked buttocks and felt very tempted to give him a quick sharp smack, but settled for kneading them. The rhythm of Kylo’s movements against him got faster, and he could feel his own pleasure starting to rise and tighten.

“Hux. Hux.” Kylo’s voice was desperate. “Gonna come. Gonna come on you.”

Kylo gasped and groaned, and Hux could feel his big dick pulsing against him and spilling onto his belly.

He loved it.

Kylo breathed deeply against him for a few seconds. Then he slowly sat up and looked down at Hux, seeming almost awestruck. He pulled a tissue out of his sweatpants pocket, wiped his own come from Hux’s body, then tucked his softening cock back into his pants.

He reached down andclosed his hand around Hux’s cock. “I want to make you come,” he said, as if he needed to explain, and started jerking him.

It was Hux’s turn to feel awestruck. This gorgeous guy, straddling him, jerking him off, looking down on him with such care, his face still sex-flushed and his hair damp with sweat at the temples.

He bit his lip and pushed up into Kylo’s hand. With one hand he pulled his shirt further up out of the way just in case.

He didn't mean to make a noise when he came, but he couldn't help it. Maybe the neighbours had heard. He hoped not, but if they had they were just going to have to live with it.

Kylo passed him a tissue, and he wiped himself off, and pulled his shorts and jeans back up.

Kylo kissed his cheek. “You're beautiful when you come,” he whispered. “Your face is all pink, and your mouth is like…”

“Shut up.”

“No, I mean it.”

Kylo’s phone buzzed with a text.

“Shit,” he said. “I'm going to have to go soon.”

“That's okay.” Hux looked down at himself, at his rumpled clothes. “I'm going to take a shower anyway.”

“Yeah. I don't have time but it’ll be okay.” He put his shoes back on.

“You're going to go wherever you're going smelling like come and sweat?”

Kylo shrugged and grinned. “I’ll be reminded of what a good time I had.”

“Are we going to do this again?” Hux asked.

“I bloody hope so.”

“Okay, good, just making sure.”

“I was thinking of, you know, specifically meeting up for, uh, a good time.”

“Yes. We can definitely do that.” A smile flickered over Hux's face. “I wasn't expecting to get so carried away this time.”

“Yeah," Kylo said. "I know. Turns out I'm a really easy lay.”

“It was nice.”

“I know what I like.”

“So do I,” Hux said, and gave Kylo the full top to toe look-over.

Kylo picked up his bag and put it over his shoulder. “Wish I could stay, but…”

Hux walked him to the door.

“Bye,” Kylo said, soft and sweet, and he gave Hux one last kiss on the cheek.

Hux leant against the door frame, light headed and victorious.

The room did smell of sex. They hadn't even made it to the bed. Though the way it had happened seemed kind of right, somehow. He hadn't even had time to stop and fetch lube from his bedside cabinet. Next time, though.

* * *

He was in a seminar when he got a text from Kylo and foolishly looked at his phone.

> Next time you have to let me suck your dick

He nearly dropped the phone. 

After the seminar was over, he replied.

> When would next time be?

> Come over now. Im not busy.

* * *

Kylo let him in, like usual, but he didn’t go over to the desk and sit down, like usual.

Instead he put his arms around Kylo and kissed him.

“Hey, you,” Kylo said. He paused by his laptop, and put on music.

It was a slow, brooding sort of instrumental, and it suited Kylo rather well. A little pretentious, maybe, but pleasant, and sort of sensual.

“I made a playlist,” Kylo said. He adjusted the pillows on his bed and sat up against them, lounging back.

Hux went and sat next to him. “This is what I was supposed to do last week, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. You were going to sit up here and I was gonna, I don’t know, let my hand brush casually against your leg and we were going to get together that way.”

“But now you have a particular agenda.”

“Yeah, I do.”

He kissed Hux and let his hands wander over his back and his ass and onto the front of his jeans. Hux could feel himself hardening against the pressure of Kylo’s palm. Then Kylo dipped his head down and actually started mouthing at him through his jeans. He could feel his hot breath through two layers of fabric.

The music had a nice, slow, persistent rhythm, full of slow bass guitars.

Kylo undid Hux’s jeans and pulled the waistband of his shorts aside enough to expose his cock. He was only three quarters hard when Kylo took him into his mouth.

Kylo’s hair was loose this time, and it was soft where it brushed against his belly and his thighs.

His mouth was wonderful. Hot, and wet, and he was doing interesting things with his tongue.

Hux gripped onto the duvet with both hands. Kylo looked up at him, and it was almost too much to take. “I couldn’t bring myself to imagine you, like this,” he babbled. “I was scared to, but you’re so fucking gorgeous, there’s no way I’d have imagined you quite as hot as this.”

Kylo pulled off briefly. “I think I imagined enough for both of us,” and he dropped back down and Hux was lost.

He let himself drift in the feeling of it, until it was too strong to hold back. “Kylo, I’m going to come really soon,” he warned.

Kylo pulled off and finished him with his hand. “It’s not that I don’t like swallowing,” he said. “But I like watching you.”

“I like looking at you, too.”

“Was it good?”

“Yeah, it was really good. You’re um, really good at sucking dick, by the way.”

Kylo laughed, and lay back on the pillows.

“So, uh, are we boyfriends now?” he asked.

“I think so. If that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, it’s alright with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to void for the wonderful art and also for the prompt concept and head canons that went with it. It was really fun to work on this and bring our ideas together. You can find their art for the fic [here on their tumblr](https://ee-void.tumblr.com/post/187512395980/here-comes-my-part-of-a-collaborative-work-for) too.
> 
> The Psychology stuff in this fic is a bit "I went on wikipedia and this is what I found," so I'm sure there's enough for subject experts to query. The Philosophy of Mind stuff is what I remember from college, and Kylo's mini-rant is basically me as a student, I was such a dick. He references Jackson (1982), Churchland (1985) and Dennett (1991). The French is… any flaws in that are down to the fact Kylo isn't quite a native level speaker!
> 
> Liberties were taken with how universities are run these days — it's set in a vaguely defined fictional British university, if anything. I haven't decided what's on Kylo's Spotify sex playlist and my ideas would be 20 years out of date anyway (put on some Bark Psychosis and have at it).
> 
> With all that said, hope you enjoy!


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